MODS: If this is inappropriate for this sub, please do not hesitate to remove it. I am literally throwing a line into a pond, as it is something I have never done before. I suffered a catastrophic collapse in identity and personhood, and I have reason to believe it was a case of black magic. More specifically, a botched case of ritualistic sacrifice or assault done to me, but they pulled out at the last minute (no pun intended; some dark humor there 😅). Maybe they panicked. I do not know. That is why I am here. I am hoping somebody can tell me, more or less, what it was.
So before I start trauma‑dumping on people, I feel like some context is necessary for what follows. I was roughly between the ages of fourteen and sixteen when this happened. I am thirty‑nine now. At the time, I was heavily into drugs and roaming the streets. I met many interesting people, but one group stood out.
I live a normal life now. I am not on any meds, though I am on the spectrum. I have a job and two kids. I met my wife roughly four to six years after the events below. There is a certain irony in how I met her. I would later find out, after a few years of dating her, that she actually met one of the individuals (one of three people in question) online. This created some apprehension in me about our relationship and how we met, and that apprehension persists to this day, though it is less prevalent now. In case anybody is wondering, I met my wife through another friend totally unrelated to this group of people, though he does know of them. He always suspected there was something odd about these individuals in question. For a short while, I believed that my wife had paid these people for a love spell and that I was not the target, but rather what she got out of the roll. This hypothesis is very unlikely, but not impossible.
I have already wasted enough of your time, so let me just get straight to it.
There are three people: Bob, Sam, and Rea. These are made‑up names. I had known Bob for some time and had just met Sam and Rea before all this transpired. Rea was also Sam's older sister. One day, Bob invited me to a house‑sitting gig that Sam had been asked to do for his parents. I had bought some stuff for Bob and me to take while we were there.
We arrived. Both Bob and I took the stuff. Everything was going like normal, until I noticed Bob throwing up on the far side of the garden. I did not think anything of it. Another strange thing happened that I cannot seem to shake: when a particular song started playing on the radio, it reminded me of a painful memory I had about myself. Oddly, Rea reacted quite badly at the very moment I started thinking about what the song meant to me, almost as if she felt what I was feeling. She stormed off wailing, and I did not see her until the morning. Later, as the night progressed, I was offered a glass of water. I drank it, and then I blacked out. Absolutely zero memory of what happened during that blackout. All I remember is waking up hyperventilating, the smell of feces in the air, and both Bob and Sam sitting next to each other, straight‑facing forward, looking as if they had seen a ghost. Initially, I thought I had just had a bad trip, but they would tell me, right? At the very least, they would tease me as a lightweight or something. Nothing. I got absolutely nothing. It was a very eerie atmosphere.
I arrived at my house the next day, but something was off. It was like I was watching my own life through the eyes of somebody else. I walked into my mom's living room, where I lived at the time, and it seemed new to me, as if I had never seen it before. There was this strange echo of somebody else's voices saying things like, "This place is actually beautiful!" or "Wow, he lives like this." The moment I noticed it, the mood changed from excitement to fear. Thinking back on it retrospectively, it never changed back to excitement. It turns out whoever or whatever this was did not suspect that I would notice it.
During the six months of me living with this, I subsequently became a hermit, as I could not really contextualize what had happened to me during the house‑sitting incident, and thus I withdrew. In this time, I developed a relationship with this something. Once, the voice told me to kneel in front of a meter‑tall wall on my balcony. At the time I did not know it, but I was being told my future. I did not see actual images. I saw what I can only describe as what you would see if you watched a child using watercolor to describe what the child was seeing from the other side of a one‑way mirror. There was an image of a blond woman with blue eyes. She was pregnant. There was a rifle, a jet, and a few other things. These are the ones that stood out to me, though.
My wife grew up with golden blond hair and blue eyes. I have two kids. I had to join the mandatory military service for the country I immigrated to. Every image lines up nearly one to one. Something else that is straight out of a Stephen King book: there was "HELP" written in nail polish on the window on the outside, but written in reverse so that I could read it left to right from the other side. I lived on the third floor. I checked to see if my mom had done that, but she did not own purple nail polish.
There were many things that happened in between these events and so forth. Sam is deceased. He was murdered. I have reason to believe I may have caused that. There was a lot of negativity aimed at him. But the part that strikes me as confusing is their fear for me.
Does this look like an assault? It has been twenty years, so at this point the damage is done and taken care of. But memories still exist, like a pond that has not been disturbed for millennia. Every now and then I look into that pond, wondering why.
Anyway, there is much more that happened. I am open to answering questions.